


You're Just Jealous

by talmaa



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: A lot of talking, Alexandria Safe-Zone (Walking Dead), Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, One Shot, POV Rick Grimes, Rickyl, Rimming, Smut, season five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23280232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talmaa/pseuds/talmaa
Summary: Alexandria and Daryl are not compatible. Rick is back to being Officer Friendly -- especially towards certain blond (married!) girl-next-door. Carol is working undercover. Everyone’s busy building their new, magically mended lives in the sheltered reality of Alexandria.Where does an ungroomed archer fit in all this?
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes
Comments: 26
Kudos: 235





	1. Conflict

**Author's Note:**

> So many things in the whole Alexandria storyline royally pissed me off, and I wanted to write my own version of the things that happened there a few weeks after Rick’s people had arrived. I _HATE_ “avoidable misunderstandings”; and the way Rick acted there was NOT the Rick I knew from the first four-and-a-half seasons. So basically, this is a fix-it where the boys talk it out, and kiss and make up. An’ stuff.
> 
>  **Schedule:** The second part of this story will be published on Wednesday. It’s completed but I’m still fiddling with the editing... /// Update 25.3.2020: Second part is published now :)

When Daryl was pissed off, even the low rumble of his motorcycle took on a sharp, annoyed tone. The sound of an aggravated bee swarm grew, turned on the path, and gave an irritated huff as Daryl turned the motor off.

 _Nice to have advance warning_ , Rick thought, put down the book he’d been skimming and let his eyes drift over the living room.

Rick had cleaned the house, so to speak -- it wasn’t his favorite pastime but Michonne had flatly refused to bear the burden of cleaning alone, and when Rick had tentatively sounded out Carol’s feelings about helping them, the woman had laughed so hard she’d got a stitch in her side. Rick wisely didn’t bring the subject up a second time. So, every now and then, he cleaned the house. Wasn’t bad, to be honest, he preferred it nice and tidy -- just didn’t much like the process of getting there. But Jessie was coming over later, maybe, so…

Miffed footsteps pounded up the porch stairs, and the click of the lock was definitely cranky. Daryl had the unique ability to make even the inanimate objects around him vibrate with whatever strong emotion he had going at the time. Most often it was irritation. Alexandria wasn’t good on his nerves.

Daryl marched in, threw one look at Rick, snorted, and stomped upstairs. Rick heard his door open, then close with a peevish bang. 

Hmm. This was an upgrade from the normal level of Alexandria-angst. Usually Daryl spat out a few words as an explanation on why the place was shit _this time_. Rick laid down his book, stood up, rolled his shoulders, stretched his back, and all in all didn’t know whether to sigh or smile at the whole thing.

Rick got it, he really did. If this place had happened right after he’d found his family, he would’ve taken to it like a fish to water. But over a year on high alert all day long, rejoicing every single day of peace, celebrating their first ripe tomatoes, cherishing every little victory they got over the harsh realities, spending evenings together in their little family -- even later, with the Woodburyans, it had still been _their_ little family always together -- well, it had rewired them. Alexandria was a hallucination, a bubble in reality, and trying to fit in was like putting a tuxedo on a vicious alley cat. Felt just...wrong.

He believed they would adjust, and Alexandria would be stronger for it. But Daryl… the figurative tuxedo was a rash on his skin, and the man was sizzling with irritation. 

Rick knocked on the door. There was always the possibility that one day, it would be too much for the hunter, and he would leave.

And that was unthinkable. Rick was prepared to put up with a lot of shit just to have the pragmatic, loyal, fierce younger Dixon by his side. It was safe like that. 

It was the rock he stood on. 

The intensity of that thought caught Rick by surprise, but he didn’t have time to analyze it -- Daryl’s grumbling ‘yes!’ invited him in.

“What?” Daryl snapped. He didn’t turn to face Rick; he was leaning on the wall by the window, looking out.

“What’s got into you?” Rick refrained from adding ‘this time’.

“Nothin’.” The hunter paused. He crossed his arms; still kept his eyes on the window. “Everythin’. This place...just gets to me, ‘s all.”

“You didn’t seem too happy to see me, either, just now.”

That earned a quick glance at Rick. The hunter chewed on his lip, his shoulders tense.

“I don’t know anyone anymore. Everyone’s actin’ like they’ve brushed everythin’ off. Changed clothes, changed their skin -- changed their families.” 

Daryl turned more to the window. “‘s not like I don’t get it. This is better for Judith, for Carl. Safer, I guess. But it’s not _real_ ,” Daryl’s voice got gruffer. “Don’t you feel it? It’s like a fairytale except… I don’t think these people get that there’s no happily ever after. They live like the world hasn’t ended around them, they just _don’t get it_. It’s a goddamn slumber party in here. An’ y’all are in it, too.”

He was silent for a moment. Lowered his head, bit on his thumb nail.

“Dunno where I fit in anymore, y’know. These people, they don’t need me.” He snorted. “Well, they do, they just don’t know it. But I’m not welcome here.” He raised his voice, anticipating Rick’s objection which was already on the leader’s lips. “Don’t. You know I’m not. An’ the family is scattered all over, we don’t talk, there’s just… nothin’. Y’know, I stopped at Carol’s on the way here. I get it, she’s ‘undercover’, but it’s like she’s wearin’ two faces, an’ my brain’s gettin’ a whiplash tryin’ to keep up. I ain’t cut out for that kind of shit. An’ you…” His voice trailed off.

“What about me?”

“You say we have to keep our edge, but what have you done for it? When have you last gone out there? I’m supposed to teach trackin’ to ya, just in case -- when’s the last time you’ve even asked about that? No, you parade around in your fancy uniform, an’ your energy goes to flirtin’ with Jessie. A _married woman_ , Rick, what the fuck’re ya thinkin’? You’re all charmed by the walls and showers and electricity -- an’ in your case by a pair of boobs. What’s the matter with ya, Rick? If you’re so in need of gettin’ some, you couldn’t spend a few days to find a single woman? No, it had to be the first one to bat her eyes to ya? Finally lettin’ your dick do the thinkin’ for ya?”

Daryl stopped, leaned his head on the window sill, still not looking at Rick.

“You done?” Rick’s voice was baffled. Maybe he should be angry with Daryl’s words, with his aggressive tone, but he was just… sad. The hunter’s animosity was like a flashback to Atlanta. He’d thought he’d never hear it again. He’d thought-

“Yeah. I guess I’m done.” All the fight had left the hunter; his shoulders slumped, his voice tired. 

Suddenly Rick was scared. What exactly was Daryl done with?

He walked slowly to his friend. Then something struck him. The sun was shining, the room was painted in bright colors, there were sounds coming in from the street, people talking, laughing...and Daryl looked _lonely_.

Why hadn’t he said anything before?

“I thought you’d made friends here. Aaron? You two seem to be pretty damn close.”

For the life of him, Rick couldn’t have explained where the ‘damn’ had come from.

“Yeah, well… he’s a good guy, the only one with any sense in this la-la land. If this had gone the other way around, he would’ve fit right in with us at the prison.”

The grudgingly warm tone annoyed Rick for some reason. He ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated.

“I dunno what you want from me, Daryl. Looks like you’re allowed to have new best friends but we aren’t? You lecture me about not asking to go hunting or tracking with you -- when’s the last time _you_ asked _me_? How you know anything about my parades an’ uniforms is beyond me ‘cause as far as I know, you’re _never here_ to see them! You know, Daryl, this goes both ways.”

Rick took cautious steps forward, close enough to stand in Daryl’s personal space. The man still wouldn’t look at him. Rick touched his arm. He felt a muscle twitch, like Daryl almost flinched but got it under control just in time. 

He hadn’t flinched from Rick’s touch for months.

“None of us have forgotten anything. Carol’s doing her thing, Maggie’s getting close to Deanne, me and Michonne, Abe and Rosita, we’re checking out the defences. Everyone’s still working together, y’know, which _you would know_ if you hadn’t been so quick to let appearances fool you. You think Carol’s the only one undercover here? We _all_ are, just not in the same way. Why were you so quick to give up on us?”

“I saw you kiss her. A few days ago.” 

It wasn’t an accusation, it was a lifeless statement of fact. Rick felt an ugly flush creep on his face. Daryl went on.

“That’s quite the undercover role you’re pulling there, Officer Friendly.”

For once, Rick didn’t know which road to take. He wanted to defend himself -- he wanted to ask who did Daryl think he was to judge him, to interrogate him -- he wanted to go back and take the ill-advised kiss back -- he wanted to explain how for a moment he’d been trapped in the illusion of normalcy.

“Never figured you for a third wheel kind of guy. Thought you had all kinds of morals and ethics and shit. Apparently after a year with just us, pretty much anything with blond hair an’ a nice ass goes. Right?”

It wasn’t the words that got to him, it was Daryl’s tone. Or the lack of it. Rick thought about Jessie. He had invited her here today, she could be coming any minute. He was still trapped in that illusion. How had it happened?

“Y’know, you talk a good talk, but I don’t _see_ any of it. You could’ve given me a role, too, or was I too dumb to have one? Didn’t think I could be sneaky as shit like y’all? Goin’ around kissin’ other man’s partners -- only you can handle that stuff, right? No, let the redneck hunt an’ scout an’ skin squirrels, he’s good at that at least. Got any estimate when I’ve outlasted that final piece of usefulness?”

_That what he’s been thinking since we got here?_

“Two questions, Daryl. Can I just… please, just two questions.”

“Shoot.”

“Why are you spending so much time with Aaron?”

The answer came without any hesitation.

“‘cause I’m welcome there. He always invites me to go out with him. Huntin’ an’ stuff. Asked me to teach him about crossbows, likes to tag along when I fix the bike, y’know. Eric’s nice, too. Three weeks we’ve been here, an’ you know how many times Aaron’s asked me to come have dinner with them? Fifteen times. I don’t really get it but they seem to like hanging out with me. Ain’t gonna question it neither. Nice to know that someone likes to have me around. I like to feel needed.”

Rick nodded, distracted by his own reaction. He wasn’t certain how he felt about all that intimacy between Daryl and Aaron but he sure wasn’t gonna think any more about it right now. A more crucial, soul-crushing point arose from Daryl’s words: Daryl didn’t feel his family needed him anymore. 

_A++ leadership, Mr Grimes!_ And he only just _today_ noticed how lonely the younger man looked. Less than two months ago, he’d told Daryl that him being there with Rick was everything. Everything! 

Whose fault was it that Daryl didn’t believe it anymore?

_Mine. Like I said, A++ leadership. Honorable mention for Quality Friendship._

“So, what’s the other one?”

“Do you think you could forgive me?”

“What?? What kind of a question is that?”

“I said I had two questions. That’s the second one. It’s a legitimate question, and weeks overdue.”

“What’s there to forgive?” Even after everything, Daryl seemed confused.

“Being a shitty friend, for one.” Rick paused to think how to explain it. Daryl stole a glance at him. “I thought… I trusted that after the past year, you’d know how crucial you are to us. To me. That you’d _know_ it, so deep in your bones that _nothing_ would make it fade away. Nothing. Not even the pink bubblegum that is Alexandria. Not even me being an inconsiderate jackass.”

For a while neither of them said anything. Daryl’s eyes were turned to the street; Rick’s gaze was carefully brushing the face of his friend.

“You know, I thought I had it under control. All planned out. How we’d adjust here, or how we’d adjust the Alexandrians to us, more like. Change this place from a safety fluke to a safe haven with an actual fighting chance. This past year… y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever trusted a group of people like I trust you guys. Not even my colleagues Before. I was so sure that what we talked during those first few days here was all it would take. That all of you would just _know_ that scattering all over was just a tactic. It was like…” Rick gave an embarrassed chuckle, “...this’ll sound childish, I know, but I felt as if there were invisible tendrils keeping us all together. Except now I hear that’s not what it’s been. Not to you at least, and if that’s true, and it hasn’t been obvious to someone who should know better, someone who’s my best friend,” (Daryl jerked, almost turned to Rick), “then how many others have the wrong impression? And how have I let that happen and haven’t even noticed?

I’ve let my focus split too much. You’re right, Daryl. I should’ve been more active in keeping us together. If you’ve had dinner at Aaron’s fifteen times, it means fifteen times of NOT having dinner with us. I don’t even remember when we’ve sat down all together. How did that happen when the first nights we all stayed glued together in this living room? I’ve taken you for granted, and if that’s not being a giant, inconsiderate jackass, then I don’t know what is.

And about Jessie… don’t really know what to tell you. I wish I did.”

Finally Daryl moved. Turned his body towards Rick and met Rick’s eyes.The leader fumbled for the right words.

“It’s just… Y’know, if you’re under the impression I’m _perfect_ somehow, don’t I have a surprise in store for you… Because I think it was...look, the thing with Jessie was me trying to grasp at something normal, a pretty girl next door, some harmless flirting, a few stolen kisses. Except that’s not how it works now, is it? And you’re right, she’s married. What _was_ I thinking? How did I justify _that_ to myself? Even if I had no morals whatsoever -- and I’d like to think that I have -- that was so _stupid_ , endangering the plan we had, taking a risk of a potential conflict with the people here.”

Daryl’s posture was a tiny bit less hostile now. Rick decided to take the chance of aggravating the hunter all over again. Not that he wanted to turn the tables on him, not as such, but they had to talk about this, just in case he’d be a giant jackass sometime later as well.

“You haven’t answered my question, though. While you’re thinking about it, I’ve still got another question for you. Daryl, why didn’t you say something sooner? Why did you just...withdraw away from me? Didn’t you think we’re good enough friends that you could just talk to me about this stuff? And besides... did you forget that you’re a leader in your own right? You _know_ you’re my right-hand man, you _know_ that. And as such, it was your _responsibility_ to question me. Ok, so I didn’t invite people to spend an evening together -- that’s my mistake. But why didn’t _you_ do that? You live here, same as me -- _you_ could’ve invited our family over. Why were you so ready to believe the worst of us?”

Rick had kept his tone gentle, he didn’t want to sound like it was an accusation. He _did_ believe it had been _his_ responsibility, not Daryl’s, but he already had bitter experience on how he could cave under leadership pressure. The time after Lori’s death sprang to mind. It had been Hershel and Daryl who had picked up the slack that time. The second-in-command needed to trust in his right to take action when Rick couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.

“Daryl, you blame me for letting my dick do my thinking -- and you’re right, that was my escape route, and a stupid one at that. But you did something similar, you escaped to Aaron. Don’t know what you were thinking with. Aaron’s taken, so maybe not with your dick -- but what do I know, right, what with Jessie.”

Rick cursed at himself -- the situation was sensitive enough without absurd insinuations of, well, ‘same-sex attraction’, to put it delicately. Never a wise move with Southern men. Daryl didn’t show he even noticed it, though. 

Unless you count the faint flush creeping on his face. Ok. Maybe you should count that.

 _Goddamnit!_

And Rick wondered why that was his reaction. None of his business who Daryl was attracted to. 

“‘s not like that,” muttered the younger man, eyes lowered.

“What isn’t?”

“Me and Aaron. ‘s not like that. He’s with Eric. We’re just friends.”

Something twisted in Rick’s chest. _Things said. Things left unsaid. Things denied. Things very much not denied._

_What business do I have paying attention to that? Get a grip!_

“Ok. Fine. Can you forgive me the mistakes and miscalculations I’ve made? And can we talk about what I just said? Can you help me understand why you don’t seem to have any faith in me? In our family? In how invaluable you are to me?”

Daryl leaned on the wall, facing Rick. He raised his gaze and met Rick’s, something unfathomable in the narrowed blue eyes. His arms were still crossed, like it was a barrier against the older man.

“‘s ok. Everybody makes mistakes. I guess you’re allowed to make some, too.” He grazed his lower lip with his teeth, gaze drifting a bit and returning to Rick. “Whatcha gonna do with Jessie? Ain’t nice to treat her as entertainment. No-one wants to be an escape route. You gotta end it, man.”

A movement on the street alerted Rick. He looked more closely. Speaking of Jessie…

“She’s coming over. Right now.”

Daryl turned around. She was crossing the street, nearing their house. 

“Why?”

“I invited her.”

Daryl gave him a look that would’ve made a lesser man cringe. 

“Nope. Not gonna happen.” 

And before Rick had time to do anything at all, Daryl pushed the window open with his one hand and with the other he shoved Rick back, away from the window.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Jessie!”

Jessie looked up, shaded her eyes with her hand and smiled. “Hey Daryl! I was just-”

“Look, ‘m sorry but Rick ain’t home right now. There was somethin’ he had to go take care of. He said he’d talk to ya later. Ok? Ok. Bye!” He pulled the window closed and turned to face Rick again, tight-lipped and tense.

“What the hell was that about?” Should Rick be angry or amused?

“I’m kinda like your deputy, right, ‘s what you said? You just told me to act like a leader. To take initiative when you’re more or less unable to, or when you’re making stupid-ass decisions. Well, I’m followin’ your instructions now, aren’t I? I took care of that,” Daryl jerked his head towards the window, “bought you a little time to figure out whatcha gonna say to her. Get your head on straight again.”

Daryl’s defences were up; he fully expected Rick to be angry with his reckless action.

Rick felt a tremble in his gut. It grew, and finally reached his conscious brain. He laughed out loud, a genuine, amused chortle. Daryl raised his eyebrow and lost some of the tension.

“I had that coming,” Rick said when the laughter had settled. “Thanks, man. I was in no state to deal with Jessie. God, it felt good to laugh.” He aimed the full force of his smile at the other man. Daryl looked faintly pleased, and to Rick’s surprise, the flush on the hunter’s cheeks deepened.

“You’re welcome. My pleasure, actually.”

“You really don’t like her, do you?”

“Really don’t like married people foolin’ around where they ain’t supposed to.”

Rick could recognize an indirect reproach as well as the next guy when it was slapped in his face. He nodded.

“Lesson learned.”

“Good. Means you’re just a jackass, not a hopeless jackass.” The corner of Daryl’s mouth twitched upwards. Rick chuckled low.

“I’m sorry,” Daryl mumbled, serious once again.

“For what?”

“‘cause you’re right too. Ain’t like I couldn’t’ve done something. This place… it’s just, it’s like my worst nightmare, it’s tidy and rich and so fuckin’ proper, an’ I don’t fit in that. I’m not at home, it’s just, it’s not _me_ , y’know. An’ y’all went an’ changed overnight, went to take a shower an’ came back all different. I knew we had a plan, I just didn’t realize that was what it felt like. I can’t do what y’all did, that slick and smooth thing ain’t me, never been, so I had nothin’ to go back to.” 

He paused, licked his lips, sighed. “Didn’t feel like I had a place here. Y’all had your parties an’ stuff. Then Aaron started talkin’ to me. He said we’re both outsiders. Felt like he got me somehow, so I thought, ok, if I gotta be here, ‘m gonna be with someone who wants my company an’ skills. It was nice, they’re good people, Aaron an’ Eric.”

Rick stepped even closer, put his hand on Daryl’s upper arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I didn’t think…”

“You’re a jackass, I thought we established that already.” Daryl gave him a tiny little smile. “Like I said, you’re right. I should’ve had faith, I should’ve _known_. It’s just…” He glanced away, thinking hard. “Ok, this ain’t a sob story so shut your trap, but y’know, Dixons ain’t got a history of fitting in ‘good company’, that probably ain’t news for ya… Then walkers took over an’ I ended up with you and Carol and Hershel and everyone, an’ it was frickin’ weird man, the family thing, bein’ a part of something like that… But here, it felt like the past year had been a dream, an’ all I could think of was ‘well it was fun while it lasted’, which is fuckin’ ironic seein’ as the past year was all kinds of shitstorms. But y’know, I had you. I had my place. Felt like I mattered.” 

Daryl looked away, and Rick knew even the faintest undertone of pity would not go down well.

Rick drew a deep breath. His hand was still on Daryl’s arm.

“Ok. Thanks for explaining this to me. You could say that what we’ve had here has been a failure to communicate.” Rick leaned down a bit, tried to reach Daryl’s eyes. Daryl peered at him through his long bangs, and Rick gave him a small smile. 

“We’ve both been idiots. Let’s try not to do that anymore, ok? Next time you feel like Aaron’s the only person who appreciates you, come talk to me. I’ll remind you of the facts. Draw you a frickin’ picture if that’s what it takes. The next time you feel I’m losing my touch with the whole survival thing, you come and drag me out of the gate. And the next time I think I’ve managed to send out my thoughts by telepathy, I’ll ask -- with words! -- if my family actually got the message. Don’t assume, ask. That’s my new motto.”

Rick noticed his thumb draw slow circles on Daryl’s arm. He felt the warmth of the hunter’s skin through the flanel. It felt nice. Just... nice. Plain and simple. Daryl didn’t seem to mind; he was relaxed under Rick’s touch, and peeked at him, his long fringe still covering his eyes.

“I think I have a problem keeping my priorities straight,” Rick mused. “It never came up like this, not in the old world. Didn’t have to fight for the survival of the human species, y’know, so the stakes were kind of lower. Back at the farm, I hated how Shane talked. I thought he was selfish, only thinking of a select few, when we needed to think of as many people as possible. I still think that, but I guess Shane wasn’t all wrong. I can’t keep my eyes so far on the horizon that I forget what’s right in front of me. In a way, I trust you, the family, _too_ much. Like I said, I take you for granted. That you just _know,_ somehow, and _keep_ knowing even though circumstances change.”

Daryl snorted, amused. “Looks like the de-jackassin’ of Rick Grimes is advancin’ pretty well.”

“That’s not even a word!”

“It is now. Just said it.”

“You’re doing pretty well with the whole proactive and assertive attitude you got going.”

“Whaddya know, a Dixon’s a fast learner.”

Rick still hadn’t let go of Daryl. Daryl still didn’t seem to be in any hurry to detach himself. The air around them felt lighter, happier. Rick had forgotten about this; he’d let himself be distracted by inconsequential byways. He’d almost lost himself there, chasing will o’ the wisps, when he’d had _this_ the whole time, right in front of him. His best friend, his most loyal ally.

Now he let go, but only to lean his shoulder against the wall, angled towards Daryl, close enough so that their shoulders touched. Daryl hadn’t flinched after that first incident. No, the hunter didn’t move a muscle, just rested against the wall, his gaze meeting Rick’s.

Daryl smelled like motor oil, cigarettes, leather, late summer sun. Rick felt his face warm up.

“What’s the deal with Aaron?” Daryl asked suddenly. Rick quirked his eyebrow.

“Every time you say his name, it’s like you spit it out.”

Rick felt like a deer in the headlights. He would’ve wanted to tear his gaze away from Daryl but apparently he’d been struck by paralysis. 

Aaron was a nice person. Rick actually liked the guy. There was no appropriate explanation to give, and Daryl wasn’t the kind of person who’d take ‘you’re only imagining things’ lying down. Also, the man was abnormally perceptive when he wanted to be, so he rarely _did_ imagine things. 

Thinking back, Rick admitted to himself that he’d probably used unnecessary emphasis with Aaron’s name. Every time. Fuck. Fuck! All those thoughts he’d pushed aside earlier, Daryl forced him to deal with now.

Daryl’s eyes narrowed. He was still waiting for an answer, and was becoming more suspicious by the second.

“Ya don’t like him?”

Rick shook his head. “No, I like him just fine.” His throat tightened. _What the fuck am I going to say to him?_

“Then what?” Daryl watched Rick squirm, and frowned, with an oddly guarded look on his face.

“Ya ain’t got a problem with him and Eric? Wouldn’t have pegged ya as the kind of person to be offended by gays… ya seemed to get along ok with Tara. But maybe it’s just gay _guys_ ya have a problem with?” 

“ _Really_ not a problem.” As the gut reaction burst out of his mouth, the horrible truth started to take form in Rick’s mind. _To think that only half an hour ago I was relaxing in a tidy home, reading a book, nothing to worry about…_

_Good times._

The hunter’s eyebrows shot up. _Daryl and his fucking sensitivity about emphasis._

“Mmhm. Ya got somethin’ ya wanna tell me?”

_He has no business being amused about this! Is this payback for the earlier discussion?_

_Come on Rick, you’re a mature adult, be a man and deal with this._

“Don’t really know what to tell you. Let it go, ok. Aaron’s fine. Eric’s fine. Everybody’s fine. I’m glad you have friends. That’s all there is to it.”

_Hah, I wish!_

He saw Daryl’s mouth quirk and a rare smile grow on his face. 

“Nah, you’re just jealous,” he quipped, obviously joking.

A shiver ran down Rick’s back. _I can still salvage the situation...right?_

“I guess I am,” he admitted. _Half-truths, here we come!_ “Jealous of your time. I’m not above drawing the wrong conclusions, just like you weren’t. You seemed to prefer his company to mine. We seemed to grow apart, I saw you turn to him, and then the way you talked about him just now… so yeah, probably jealous.” He gave a tiny smile. “I guess I got used to being your best friend and then, all of a sudden, I wasn’t.”

“You could’ve said something-”

“Yeah, just like you could’ve. Didn’t we just talk about this?”

The sun wasn’t shining through the window anymore; they were standing in a soft shadow. _Why exactly did I think it’d be such a good idea to stand so close to him?_

“Best friends, ya say,” Daryl mused.

“I think so. You?”

“I’m ok with that.”

Insanity came over Rick. No other explanation.

“You never been jealous of me? My time, I mean.”

Daryl’s eyes traveled on Rick’s face, meticulously mapping his eyes and nose and lips and cheeks and… Rick had trouble breathing and he cursed to himself, he _knew_ this feeling, and Daryl sure wasn’t making things easy. The man had no idea what he was doing to him.

“Ain’t that familiar with this whole best friends routine...Bein’ jealous a part of it usually?”

“Don’t really know what’s usual or not these days.”

Daryl shifted, turned towards Rick. His arms were still crossed and they were a hair’s breadth from Rick’s chest. Daryl was way too deep in Rick’s personal space. It reminded him of the rare, peaceful days in the prison, when they’d leaned on the wall, shoulder to shoulder, and enjoyed the warm sun. _Come to think of it, Shane and I never used to be like that, there was always a certain amount of respectable distance, and_ **_we_** _’d been best friends._

“I guess I have.” 

The low rumble put something hot and heavy in the pit of Rick’s stomach.

“When?”

“Lately.”

“Why?”

“You preferred other company, looked like.” Daryl’s words echoed Rick’s. “Seemed like you had no use for a scruffy redneck when there was a kissable blond around.”

Daryl’s voice held a touch of tension. As if he was intentionally saying just a bit too much. The thing in Rick’s stomach turned from hot and heavy to hot and fluttery. He dosed his words with what he hoped was just enough of levity to make an honorable retreat doable.

“What, you mean I could’ve had an all-in-one solution? A kissable scruffy redneck? We really need to do something about this communication deficiency. I had no idea _that_ was on the table.” 

The shadows were pooling in Daryl’s eyes. He was leaning his shoulder against the wall, relaxed and tense, which was a contradiction in terms but then, why should it surprise Rick. The hunter was a goddamn mystery. If someone had told him a year ago he’d be having this conversation with the prickly archer, Rick would’ve-

>   
>  -he had no idea how he would’ve reacted, truth to tell. A year ago, they’d been stranded, struggling from one day to the other, trying to stay alive after the farm had fallen. Rick had still been dealing with what had happened with Shane. Lori had still flinched every time he came near her -- not that he did very often. He’d tried to do his best for the group but he’d had no idea if his decisions were right. Probably weren’t. But he’d wanted to give no room for hesitating and second-guessing and endless negotiating. Democracy had had no place in the situation they were in back then. 
> 
> He remembered one night, much like many others but different that time. They’d been hungry, again. The houses they’d checked had been stripped bare of anything edible, and Daryl had had no luck with the hunting. The group had huddled around a small fire, and Rick had wanted to get away, for just a moment. He’d walked a few minutes, ended up on the shore of a teeny tiny pond, peaceful and walkerless. Less than a minute later, the hunter had appeared by his side. “Ya shouldn’t go out alone like that,” the hunter had reproached in his gravelly voice. “You do it all the time,” Rick had pointed out mildly, and it had taken him by surprise how little he’d minded that he hadn’t been left alone. 
> 
> For a good long while, they’d stood there together, looking at the pond, not talking. Finally, Rick had turned to look at the younger man. Daryl had been caught already looking back at him but, unlike he’d been prone to do before -- and occasionally would do for many months after -- he hadn’t turned his gaze quickly away. His eyes had been unflinching and steady. 
> 
> The words had come out almost involuntarily, though. “I trust ya,” he’d blurted. Rick had tilted his head and frowned. “Whatever for?” he’d asked, thinking back to the barn and the fire and the hunger. To all the piss-poor decisions he’d made. He’d never seen Daryl lose his cool in that particular way, but now he saw the faintest of flushes on the other man’s cheeks. “‘cause you wanna do right by us. You’re a good man. It’s enough.”
> 
> Rick had looked at the other man for a long while. Again, thinking back to the squirrels and the shouts, the snarls and the suspicion. Wondering about how Daryl’s words made him feel: composed, calm… almost confident all of a sudden. “It’s enough -- but only if you help me. Will you?”
> 
> Without a moment’s hesitation, Daryl had jerked his head, a tiny little nod, barely there.
> 
> So yeah. Even as far back as a year ago, he hardly would’ve laughed, or scoffed, or rolled his eyes at the idea. Probably wouldn’t’ve believed it could happen, but there would’ve been nothing inherently ridiculous with the idea. After just a few words and a nod, Rick had fully comprehended how vital the scruffy redneck had become to him.

“An’ what if it was?”

“Is it?”

Daryl grazed his lower lip with his teeth. Such a _Daryl_ thing to do. Usually when he was thinking real quickly.

“What would ya do if it was?”

Daryl wasn’t going to be the first one to cave. Rick was sorely tempted to ask ‘what would you like me to do’ but he wanted the game to end. Come hell or high water…

“Might just take you up on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -The Walking Dead and its wonderful cast of characters are not mine. I just play with them for fun :)  
> -English is not my first language so apologies for any and all mistakes.


	2. Denouement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...aaaaaand here's the rest of the story. Hope you enjoy it :)

Daryl unfolded his arms slowly, like he expected the leader to shout ‘backsies!’ any second. Rick met his gaze and didn’t move, not even a little. He was barely breathing. 

The hunter put a hand on Rick’s chest, and for a mortifying moment Rick thought Daryl would push him back and make clear that it had been, indeed, just a game. But the hand stayed there, warm against him. There was a question in Daryl’s eyes. This time, it was Rick who gave the tiny nod.

Daryl leaned in, Rick felt his breath on his face. Daryl’s newly-found assertiveness seemed to flounder a little; the hunter’s low growl had a whiff of uncertainty when he said, “You gotta help me out here a little...ain’t got that much practice.”

The voice resonated in Rick, plucked every nerve ending, and he was warm all over. His arms found their way around the other man’s slim waist; Daryl slid his hand to Rick’s shoulder and, just like that, there was nothing at all between their lips anymore. A hot flush of arousal surged through Rick as he felt Daryl’s lips -- dry and soft -- on his, felt the faint tickle of Daryl’s facial hair and the strength of his arms wrapping around him.

Daryl’s soft grunt vibrated on Rick, _toomuchtoomuchtoomuch_... He was barely holding on to his sanity as it was. He couldn’t form coherent thoughts, his brain was a swarm of flickering fireflies. He ran his tongue over Daryl’s lower lip; the mumbled sound might’ve been a strained “Jesus, Rick…”, the powerful arms tightened their grip suddenly, and Rick could _feel_ the other man against him. So fucking _strong_. The familiar scent. The new, intoxicating taste. Daryl’s tongue met his, and a whole new batch of sparks went off.

The leader raked his fingers up and down Daryl’s back, relished the feel of muscles shifting and flexing. There was nothing soft about the hunter’s body, no give in his wide chest, and Rick’s breath hitched as he stepped even closer and felt something hard against his groin and heard someone gasp. _Me, it was me._

_This is really happening._

But then it stopped. Daryl pulled back, let a few inches separate their swollen lips.

“Ya sure about this? Not confused or anythin’? I ain’t Jessie, I ain’t got the body parts, y’know. Ya better know whatcha doin’ ‘cause I don’t share so good, an’ I ain’t gonna be your escape neither.”

Rick waited a moment just to get his pulse to settle. He licked his lips -- loved the way they felt, all swollen and tender and tasting like Daryl. 

“Escaping is...wanting to get away from where you are, right? I don’t wanna _escape_ , I wanna _be_ with you. So yes, I’m sure. Made some mistakes along the way but I got it finally. Not a hopeless jackass, remember?”

“Mmhm.” Daryl purred; he pressed his mouth lightly on Rick’s jawline and skimmed Rick’s cheek with his lips. Rick’s poor heart picked up its pace again.

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry...You’re-” A groan escaped from Rick’s lips as the hunter nipped his earlobe, and bolts of lightning fired straight to his cock, “...you’re _everything_ to me, I’m sorry I got mixed up and lost sight of that, I’m sorry…” 

He whimpered -- the feel of Daryl’s burning lips on his neck, Daryl’s hands roaming his back and sides and shoulders and ass just _too fucking much_!

Daryl’s voice, thick and gravelly. “Yeah, well, you drove me up the fuckin’ wall with your fuckin’ antics, an’ everythin’ was so weird here and YOU were so weird here, an’ I just… Fuck! You’re real sure, ok? Ya know whatcha doin’ now?” 

He punctuated the words with nips and bites, and Rick nearly swooned, goddamnit!, the sensations tiptoeing on the border of pain, and Rick had it coming, and fuck if it didn’t send more bolts of pure _want_ to his cock, and if Daryl didn’t stop sometime soon, _someone_ would be coming, that’s for sure…

Rick grabbed Daryl tight and flipped him against the wall. Daryl’s face was flushed and his hair even messier than usual. Rick tangled his fingers in the long locks. He tried to control his breathing, he wanted to get the words out. He pressed his forehead against Daryl’s.

“I can’t get any surer than this, Daryl. It ain’t gonna change, trust me on that. But this, here… I’ve no idea what I’m doing. I’d, sorta, hoped _you_ would’ve…?” Hesitantly, he rocked his pelvis against Daryl’s hard cock. Even through two layers of jeans the feel of the other man’s arousal against his was a heady experience. “But if not, I guess we’ll learn as we go? Fast learners an’ all that?”

Daryl’s fingers dug into Rick’s hips and _pulled_. Rick let out a surprised little moan.

“Ain’t got nothin’ but my imagination. But I’ve got fuckloads of practice with that.”

Hearing that, Rick admitted to himself he’d been less than candid. It made him inordinately pleased that whatever experience Daryl might’ve had, _this_ wasn’t part of it. He was kind of looking forward to finding their way together.

Rick’s lips were fucking _lonely_ like this, so he slotted their mouths together and wondered, a bit fuzzily, how well they fit. How easy it was to glide their slick lips together and lick into Daryl’s mouth. There was no awkward fumble, no noses getting in the way -- just the smooth harmony.

Much like they’d moved together since pretty much the very beginning. Always anticipating, mirroring each other’s movements.

This here, it was the logical extension. 

Rick’s mouth traveled down Daryl’s neck and back again, because the hunter’s mouth was, just, _Christ!_ , he couldn’t get enough of it. Daryl’s fingers wormed their way under the waistband of Rick’s jeans to grab at his shirt and drag it up, fingertips raking on his skin. Rick shivered violently and his dick was bravely trying to hack its way out of his jeans. 

Daryl’s hands run along Rick’s back, strong and warm, and Rick thought how they would feel on other parts of his body, those agile fingers and powerful hands. The thought made him wild with lust, he deepened the kiss and fucking _moaned_ into Daryl’s mouth. His hand searched the buttons on Daryl’s shirt. The angle was awkward, he couldn’t bear to leave too many inches between their bodies, but finally, one by one, the buttons gave up the fight and _thank you God!_ he finally had his hands on Daryl’s naked, warm skin.

When he flicked Daryl’s nipple and pinched it, two things happened: Rick felt Daryl’s cock _react_ , and Daryl broke the kiss to thump his head on the wall and let out a breathy _Fuck!_

Rick chuckled. “Sensitive, huh?”

“Looks like it… Wanna take your shirt off or d’you just want me to rip it off? Ratty shirt anyway so…”

Rick laughed out loud. “You sweet-talker you! You just wanna flex your biceps to impress me.”

That got a low chuckle out of the hunter. “Whatever. But ya got too much clothes on ya, someone’s gotta do something. Ain’t got too much practice with this, told ya, but even I know that this sorta thing usually involves less shirts an’ pants.” Daryl let his own shirt fall on the floor.

The leader shivered. There was no _going slow_ now, it seemed, and the funny thing was, Rick didn’t think there was any need for it either. Their whole history had been one goddamned slow foreplay.

Rick raised his arms and Daryl slid the shirt off. Rick’s hands returned on Daryl’s skin in a flash, roamed on his abs, wandered on his back, pulled him closer, away from the wall, so that he could feel every inch of his skin against his chest, against his hands. Daryl tensed up for a second, then he relaxed into Rick. 

Rick sucked on Daryl’s earlobe and got a whimper out of the hunter. “I must commend my second-in-command for this excellent idea,” Rick mumbled into Daryl’s ear. “I love your hands on me, I love how you feel, I love how you taste.” He was dizzy with want -- so he was blabbing L-words, what of it? 

“Less talk, more kissin’,” grunted the hunter, whose fingers were tangled in Rick’s hair and whose other hand was low on Rick’s hip, thumb brushing just below the waistline of Rick’s jeans.

“Hey, I was just reprimanded for not stating my thoughts clearly. Ain’t gonna take no chances now. Gonna tell you all about how I feel about you.” 

Rick pulled slightly back -- yes, as he’d thought: Daryl was scowling and blushing. _Our deadly predator, killer archer, silent slayer -- blushing. Doesn’t get more adorable than this_ , Rick thought fondly, and even though his frustrated cock was fairly screaming for action asap, he took time to run his fingers through Daryl’s hair and tucked some of his long bangs behind his ear. 

He didn’t stop there, he kept threading his fingers, relished the soft feel of Daryl’s hair. He’d touched the other man before, obviously, tending to his wounds and scratches, or sleeping close during the winter before prison. Never had there been reason or occasion to just... _caress_ the touch-shy archer. Rick had never realized there was a _want_ within him, and now it was all rushing out.

Daryl’s own hands had frozen in place. “Why’re ya doin’ that?” he asked, puzzled.

“‘cause I want to. Just said so. Love to touch you now that I can.”

“Ya don’t wanna have sex?” Again, flustered.

Now Rick felt his own ears warm up. Why the bluntness of a blunt man came as a surprise was anybody’s guess…

“Oh, absolutely. Why d’you think _this_ isn’t a part of it?”

Daryl had no ready answer to that; he tilted his head a little and licked his swollen lips, thinking. 

“I guess I thought we’d just, y’know, get it _done_.”

Rick grinned. “There a particular reason why we can’t take our time with getting it done?”

Daryl’s hand glided down Rick’s cheek and behind his neck. 

“No reason,” the gravelly voice said, and Daryl’s mouth met Rick’s again.

For a small eternity, the two men forgot everything else and simply enjoyed the new familiarity. There were hands, and lips, and teeth, and tender fingertips, and near-painfully raking nails, and-

“Come here,” Rick whispered, and pulled Daryl forward. Rick walked backwards until the back of his knees hit Daryl’s bed. He sat down, his hands traveled from Daryl’s back to his hips and, slowly, to his belt buckle. He stared at the buckle, the zipper, and the hard length pressing on it. He let out a trembling breath, felt flames swirling under his skin, and looked up at Daryl. The man was staring at him, a nervous tongue flicking over his lips again and again, the blue of his eyes turned to pitch black.

The fire flared so hard it made Rick gasp.

“Whatcha doin’?” The quiet words stumbled out of Daryl’s mouth. Rick answered by running his hand over the bulge in Daryl’s jeans. Touching Daryl’s cock, even if only through layers of clothes, went straight to his own dick -- like he was touching them both at the same time. A wry voice in his head pointed out that _getting it done_ wouldn’t likely take much time, however much he’d want that. 

Daryl groaned. 

Rick hadn’t noticed his fingers were shaking. That played havoc with his efficiency to solve the riddle of Daryl’s buckle and button and zipper, but he got there. He opened the jeans, and Daryl’s cock, clearly defined under thin underwear, was _right there_ \-- the flushed head, with pearls of precum oozing from it, peeking from under the waistband.

Rick’s breath stuttered. His skin was on fire. He’d never, ever, seen another man’s cock like this. Never had wanted to, never had any interest in it. Now, all he wanted was to _touchlicksucktastepump_ as much as possible, _right the fuck_ **_now_**!

He dipped his fingertips under the waistbands and drew them down, cautiously, giving Daryl every chance to say _no, too soon, too much_. But the hunter said nothing, and the only sounds were his quick breaths and the rustle of his clothes. Rick leaned down to pull Daryl’s boots off -- to get him free of all the useless clothes. Daryl was so, so close, and Rick let his mouth skim the hunter's thigh. His hands grazed the back of Daryl’s legs and sensed the faint vibrations of Daryl’s trembling muscles.

And then he was sitting up again, the scent of Daryl sweeping through his senses. His fingers crept closer, over the sensitive skin at the top of Daryl’s thighs, and the hunter pushed his hips forward reflexively. Rick glanced up; Daryl’s eyes were glued on Rick’s hands, his lower lip was squeezed between his teeth so hard, it was a wonder he didn’t draw blood.

Something cracked in Rick’s brain. He couldn’t think of any other explanation for the thing he did next, because there was no precedent for this.

He run his fingers on the smooth-hard-hot shaft and spread the precum carefully all over it. His gaze roamed up again, noticed the clenched fists and the contracting abs. The hunter’s eyes had fluttered shut; his teeth were firmly sunk in his lip. Rick raised his hand to the other man’s mouth and brushed lightly over the abused lip, back and forth, his fingers wet with Daryl’s precum.

Daryl’s eyes flew open, his teeth released the lip and, unthinking, he licked his lip. Rick’s fingertips met the adventurous tongue, and Daryl played along, his tongue lapped the precum from Rick’s fingers, a low moan the only sound Rick could hear over the rapid _thump_ of his own thundering heart. Rick pushed lightly, and the other man yielded, sucked in the index and middle finger and let his tongue twirl around them in his mouth.

Rick’s mouth went slack. _Fuck! Is there anything hotter than this?_

His other hand finally touched Daryl’s cock, wrapped around it, moved, found a steady rhythm, flicked a thumb over the head. Daryl moaned and let go of Rick’s fingers. Rick grabbed Daryl’s hip, and finally gave in to another _want_. He lowered his head and licked a long wet stripe along Daryl’s perfect cock, taste buds firing like sparklers. He closed his lips on the head and sucked gently; he felt Daryl shudder, heard him groan _Fuck_ and _Jesus_ and _Rick_. 

He closed his eyes and let himself drown into Daryl. The hunter’s hand had somehow ended up in Rick’s hair, fingers convulsing in his locks. Rick took in more and more until Daryl’s cock brushed the back of his throat, and he had to fight against gagging. 

He got it under control just fine, if the sounds Daryl was making were any indication.

 _I’m drunk_ , Rick thought hazily. _Can you get drunk from sucking someone’s dick? Not someone’s… Daryl’s. Just Daryl’s..._

He jerked Daryl off steadily -- no way he could take Daryl into his mouth all the way, _gotta practice more, god I hope he wants to do this again. An’ again. An’ again…_

“Rick. Rick!” Daryl’s voice was broken and wild, and it penetrated the haze Rick was in. He slid his mouth off and gave one last kiss on the steel-hard shaft. Daryl’s fingers relaxed little by little; Rick hadn’t realized how hard he’d been holding onto Rick’s hair. His scalp tingled pleasantly.

Daryl lowered his hands on Rick’s shoulders and pushed. Rick lay down on the bed and wiggled until he was settled comfortably, his gaze wandering on Daryl’s naked body, drinking in every little detail of the beautiful man in front of him. 

Tomorrow -- he promised himself -- tomorrow he’d waste some time being baffled about how all this could happen within one lousy hour. You’d think this sorta thing would take more time.

But then, hadn’t it taken over a year?

 _Tomorrow. Not now._ Not now when Daryl was eyeing him like Rick was a gourmet meal and Daryl a starving man. The hunter was absentmindedly stroking his cock and grazing his lip with his teeth. Planning something, obviously… A _very_ pleasant flood of heated anticipation pooled in Rick’s groin.

“What’s with them clothes, Grimes?”

“Bothering ya, Dixon?” The leader smirked.

Daryl’s mouth twitched, amused. He let go of his cock; it pointed at Rick, rock-hard and pulsing. Rick felt an answering jolt in his pants.

The hunter stepped to the foot of the bed, untied Rick’s boots, took them off, slid the socks off, tickled his foot, and snorted at Rick’s reflex. He climbed on the bed, straddled the older man, and started working on the belt.

It warmed Rick’s heart, for some reason, to see Daryl’s strong, skillful hands shake, just a little. The man threw furtive glances at Rick through his overgrown bangs.

 _Yes, darling… this is really happening._ Warm flow of excitement and tenderness brushed over him, and-

 _\---Umm, what? ‘Darling’?_ **_Really??_ ** _Thank god I didn’t say that out loud, Daryl would laugh his ass off, can’t be that corny…_

_...Can I?_

But then Daryl unzipped Rick’s pants, didn’t dawdle on pulling them down together with the underwear, threw them on the floor, straddled Rick again, and the leader pushed the thought away. _Got time to be corny later. Gotta survive this first, Daryl going all_ **_hunter_ ** _on me…_

Daryl’s hands were hard on him, they traveled slow over his hips, over the sides, and chest. Daryl wasn’t gentle now, the touch was proprietary, it said **_this is mine_** ; and it took Rick’s breath away, the intense blue of Daryl’s eyes, drilling into him, saying **_don’t ya forget it_**. 

And he wasn’t gonna. He gripped Daryl’s arms and pulled him down, and kissed him an answer, firm and hot. _I won’t forget._

Rick let his hands slide down Daryl’s back. The hunter moved above him, smooth like a tiger, their cocks brushing against each other every now and then, tantalizing, just enough to not be enough. Rick’s palms settled on Daryl’s lower back, didn’t press down, just held him there, as he raised his hips and ground into Daryl. 

Daryl moaned into his mouth. He lifted himself off of Rick and flopped down beside the older man. 

“Jesus Christ… We should’ve done this months ago.”

“Ain’t gonna disagree.”

Daryl skimmed his hand over Rick’s belly until he reached Rick’s leaking cock. His fingertips slid up and down a few times, then he wrapped his long fingers around it, pumped slowly. Rick gave a low cry, they looked at each other, and then Daryl turned his eyes back on Rick’s twitching cock, and his mouth followed his gaze.

There was nothing else. Just Daryl’s wet heat tight around him. The sight of his head bobbing up and down, long messy hair brushing Rick’s belly. Hunter’s hands roaming over his chest, pinching his nipples, raking his thighs, cradling his balls… 

Suddenly Daryl let go, their eyes met, and Rick’s nerve-endings howled in anticipation when Daryl sucked in two of his fingers, licked, slurped, thoroughly made them wet, and then continued with giving Rick the best blow-job of his fucking life!

Daryl’s wet fingers traveled over Rick’s balls, pressed and rubbed on the sensitive batch just behind them, and then -- oh god, Rick had no power over his limbs, his legs moved further aside all by themselves -- trailed down Rick’s crack, and jolts of lightning went through the leader when Daryl’s insistent fingers brushed and brushed over his tight little pucker.

The hunter groaned on Rick’s cock and vibrations rolled all over Rick’s pelvis. He shuddered violently and jerked his hips again and again. Daryl growled; Rick was effectively fucking his mouth, and Daryl’s fingers pressed harder. Every time Rick moved, Daryl’s fingers breached the tight ring of his muscle just a bit more, and then one was inside -- just one knuckle, but the sensations drove Rick _crazy_. Daryl’s mouth and moans and vibrations, and the oddly foreign and burning and exciting feel of Daryl _inside of him_ , spearing him little by little...

Then it was gone. Daryl scrambled like a fucking squirrel over Rick, fumbled open a drawer of the night stand, took out a small bottle, grabbed the second pillow by Rick’s head, scrambled back.

“What’s that?” Rick asked, eyes on the bottle. 

Daryl raised his eyebrow. “Ya dense or what? What d’ya think this is? Some anti-agin’ night cream to help me keep my youthful skin?”

“Oh, right… Didn’t know you had that stuff.” Rick was rock-hard, pretty much every ounce of his blood was south of his brain, and the sight of Daryl -- lips spit-slick and swollen, eyes flaming with blue fire -- holding a bottle of frickin’ _lube_ did not help his mental faculties.

“Told ya, all I got is my imagination. And two functionin’ hands.”

 _Just when you thought you couldn’t possibly get more turned on…_ Images of Daryl _practising_ flashed through Rick’s mind.

“You wanna put that to use, you better hurry, ‘cause I ain’t gonna last long like this,” Rick said through clenched teeth, barely holding it together.

Daryl’s eyes glinted, mischievous and greedy, as he tapped Rick on the hip and wedged the pillow under his butt. 

“‘s that so?” he breathed, opened the bottle, spread some oily liquid on his fingers, settled back, lying half over Rick, feet almost brushing Rick’s head. Rick looked down; he saw the damaged skin of Daryl’s back, but more important, he saw the movement of strong muscles under the skin, saw his dark hair sway as he sucked Rick off with abandon. Rick felt the furnace of Daryl’s mouth on him and sensed the slick fingers on his hole. Daryl’s middle finger pushed in, all the way to the second knuckle, and Rick couldn’t stop the cry, couldn’t stop himself from rocking against Daryl.

The hunter kept pushing, and then there were two fingers, and Rick was a quivering mess who couldn’t understand he’d missed out on this for so long, because _fuck!_ there were things down there, _in_ there that made him _fly_! Soon Daryl was fucking him with two fingers, and Rick was almost completely buried under mindless pleasure when he felt something move at his elbow.

Rick turned his head. Daryl lay there, one leg less than a foot away, the other bent over the side of the bed, touching the floor, supporting him. His whole body moved in rhythm with his mouth and fingers. Rick’s eyes were drawn to the strong thighs and the tight ass -- the muscles flexed and relaxed in hypnotic waves. 

_Daryl’s rubbing himself off on the mattress…_

Rick touched the thigh, felt an electric shock jolt through the hunter, heard and _sensed_ a whimper. His fingers clutched Daryl harder, and he slid his hand up through the sparse body hair on the back of Daryl’s thigh. He reached the firm mound of Daryl’s butt-cheek. He closed his eyes for a second, just to focus all his concentration on feeling Daryl everywhere -- _on_ him, _in_ him, _under_ him.

He wouldn’t last long now. The muscles on Daryl’s ass moved faster under his palm, he heard Daryl pant, felt it on his cock. Rick’s fingers wandered further, skimmed over the crack, traveled along it up to Daryl’s lower back, then down to brush lightly on his balls. Then back again, with a bit more pressure.

Daryl groaned. His hips lost the rhythm. Rick’s arousal gauge was rapidly approaching the end of the red zone. He grabbed Daryl’s butt so hard it must’ve hurt, and struggled to get up, propped on his elbow, leaned over Daryl’s ass, got his mouth on it. He devoured the firm mound -- kissed it, licked it, fuckin’ _bit_ it. 

For a second, the hunter had frozen and raised his mouth off of Rick. Then he let out a string of curses, lowered his head on Rick’s belly. “Ain’t gonna last…”

Rick smiled and licked a light stripe over the thin crack between the clenched butt-cheeks.

“Rick…” A broken whimper, full of elemental lust.

The leader wouldn’t’ve guessed a sound like that was possible from the restrained archer. But then, he’d never expected his own voice to be this gravelly.

“Come on darlin’... come for me.” And he pushed a cheek aside and licked a little deeper.

Daryl howled, and attacked Rick’s cock with a vengeance. His fingers fucked on Rick’s prostate, and the pressure built and the heat pooled and Rick lost the final traces of whatever inhibitions he’d had. He moved like lightning, impatient to get _more_ of himself on _more_ of Daryl. Both of his hands were on Daryl’s ass now, pushed at the cheeks, spent a second at staring hungrily at the incredible sight of the fluttery teeny-tiny pucker, felt his mouth water -- _who’d’ve thought?_ \-- lowered his head and kissed it.

The hunter almost sobbed and his hips shuddered hard. Rick tasted Daryl with his tongue, swirled it around on the furled muscle, and the sensation was so fuckin’ _erotic_ and _primal_ , Rick couldn’t take it anymore. The pressure in his groin erupted and he cried out against Daryl, and blacked out a little as well, goddamnit, as he felt Daryl swallow and swallow and pull his fingers slowly out of Rick’s ass. 

Rick pressed a thorough kiss on Daryl’s trembling hole, and that did it for the hunter. Daryl shook all over, breathed a ragged _Fuck!!!_ , and then they both went silent, heaped upon each other in a warm, blissful mess, all higher thought processes reduced to absolutely nothing. Rick’s head rested on Daryl’s lower back; Daryl had collapsed on Rick’s thigh, and the hunter was lazily twirling his index finger through Rick’s pubic hair.

“What did ya call me just now?”

 _Oooooooh fuck…_ Rick swallowed.

“Darlin’?”

“Mmhm.”

“An’ ‘everything’. I said you’re everything to me. Which one did you mean?”

“Both, I guess. Ya mean that?”

“Ever lied to you?”

Rick watched him closely. Daryl chewed on his puffed and swollen lip.

“I don’t share,” the hunter blurted out.

“I know.”

“So Jessie’s out.”

“Yep.”

Again, the assertive front fractured a tiny bit and the faintest trace of uncertainty crept in Daryl’s voice.

“What’s this then?”

“A relationship. If you want it.”

“Dunno shit about relationships. But if you wanna risk it with someone like me, I’m game.”

Rick hid a smile. _That's probably the closest thing to a love confession I can get from Daryl, at least for now. Would it shake him if I told him I love him? ‘cause I do love him. Of course I do. Just didn’t realize I_ **_want_ ** _him, too. Jesus, how life can change in an hour…_

“Risk is my middle name. So that’s settled then.” Rick raised himself, leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Daryl, right between his shoulder blades.

“Whatcha wanna do today?” An almost imperceptible tension in the words. 

Rick wasn’t stupid. 

“A shower first. Then I’ll head out to Jessie’s. Something I need to say to her, y’know.”

An affirmative grunt. No tension anymore.

“Later...dunno… Still haven’t learned to shoot that crossbow of yours. Wanna give me a lesson?”

“Ok.” Daryl scooted backwards and stood up. Held out his hand to Rick and helped him up. Daryl didn’t let go, and the look he gave Rick was open and unguarded, and Rick was silly with love bubbling under his skin.

“Ya sure?” Daryl’s question had nothing to do with crossbow lessons. It had the sound of finality, the absolute last time he’d ever want to ask this of Rick.

This would be it, now.

“I’m sure.”

_*****THE END*****_


End file.
